


A Night To Remember

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game), technically - Fandom
Genre: Other, also, if you're reading this tist im sorry, just pure filth, no after sex cuddles, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:50:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6963181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don’t notice the man staring at you from across the room, or the smirk on his face as he stands and takes long strides over to you. He approaches carefully, taking a moment to run a hand through his slicked-back, black hair and adjust the cuffs of his suit before leaning against the bar next to you.</p>
<p>(Peter Capra is an OC from Chill or Be Chilled by TotalSkeletonTrash, please go read that if you haven't already!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night To Remember

**Author's Note:**

> DONT TELL ON ME TO TST I DONT WANNA PAY 20 BUCKS IM TOO BROKE
> 
> Also this is purely self indulgent and kind of a self-insert. so. enjoy, i guess. i wrote this in a single night so sorry if there's mistakes.

It’s a cool and cloudy night in Ebbot, and you’re taking refuge from the cold in a crowded bar. There’s some kind of pop song playing from the jukebox, and people bumping into you every time they walk by. You keep telling yourself to just leave, you have been for the past two hours when your date went to the bathroom and never returned.

Your finger circles the rim of your water glass idly, your legs crossed and your glasses sliding down your nose from looking down for too long. You can’t really find the motivation to leave, and you have a feeling in your gut to stay until closing time, so you do. You stay sitting at the bar, with the annoying pop song blasting from the jukebox and the loud, drunken laughter ringing through the bar, because you honestly have nothing better to do at home. You have your first day of work at your new job in the morning, so you can’t even get drunk. That new job is honestly the only reason you moved to this town, so you really can’t fuck up your first day by having a hangover.

You don’t notice the man staring at you from across the room, or the smirk on his face as he stands and takes long strides over to you. He approaches carefully, taking a moment to run a hand through his slicked-back, black hair and adjust the cuffs of his suit before leaning against the bar next to you. You glance up when he clears his throat, pushing up your black frames that had been threatening the fall off onto the bar. His gorgeous bright, blue eyes meet your dark brown ones, and he smiles in a way that suddenly diverts all of your attention to him.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he starts out, “What’s someone so cute doing here all alone?”

You glance away, your cheeks warm, before looking back to him. “I, uh, my date ditched me.” You tell him, a little awkwardly.

He raises a brow, that goddamn smirk still on his lips, and that alone has you feeling things that _you shouldn’t be feeling in the middle of a bar_. He spares a glance at your cup of water, “Wouldn’t you rather be drinking if you’re so down about your date standing you up?”

“I have work in the morning, don’t want to get a hangover.” You shrug, feeling slightly more relaxed as the conversation goes on.

He studies you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, before he turns to the bartender. “Hey, buddy,” They turn to face him, eyeing him disdainfully, “Get me and this lovely guy a drink.” They nod and move to get two glasses.

Your cheeks heat up again. “Oh, um, you don’t have to-”

“But I want to.” He grins, “Besides, you should loosen up a bit. Stop looking so depressed. I bet you look even prettier with a smile.”

His constant barrage of compliments has you flustered, and you give him a lopsided smile. He flashes one back, and turns just in time to see the bartender place two drinks on the bar. The man winks at them, and grabs his own. You grab one too and take a sip, feeling the burn of alcohol. You wince a bit, still unfamiliar with drinking.

“You aren’t a lightweight or anything, right?” He asks, and you look up at him. “Not going to get drunk after one or two drinks?”

“Uh, no, I’m not going to get drunk, but three’s my limit for staying relatively sober.” You say, and he nods before raising the glass to his lips.

“Perfect.” He mumbles, looking at you with desire that’s make something start to tighten low in your gut, before taking a slow sip.

When you finish your drink, you can already feel a slight buzz. You feel fuzzy, kinda, but the conversation starts flowing better, and you start noticing how hot it is when he’s looking in your eyes. You almost choke on your second drink when he touches you, and your cheeks are in a perpetual state of cherry red.

After your second drink, when you’re definitely feeling it at this point, he looks at you with a lust that makes you press your thighs together. He notices and grins, setting his third drink on the bar.

“You know,” He’s looking at you intensely, and holy shit you feel like you’re going to burst into flames from that alone- “You still seem pretty wound up. What do you say, we head back to your place, and I could help you unwind?”

You feel sparks travel down your spine and into your lower belly, and all you can do is nod. He chuckles and you feel your heart beat speed up. You watch him hand a credit card to the bartender and wait for it back, before sliding his wallet back into his blazer before turning to you.

He doesn’t have to say anything as you stand and grab your bag, following him through the now almost-empty bar, and into the cool night air. You had taken an Uber to get here, and were planning to take one back, but now you’re following a man who’s name you don’t know towards a sleek, expensive-looking car in the middle of the parking lot. He still doesn’t say anything as the car unlocks itself, and opens the door for him. You open your own door without a word, and climb in.

Your first thought when you see the interior is, ‘Holy fucking shit, this guy is loaded’. The seats are soft and made of a pricy material, and the entire car smells of the same cologne he’s wearing. He doesn’t put on his seat belt, but you do, and his eyes light up when he looks at you, looking for your reaction.

“Wow…” You say, “This is…”

“The best car you’ve ever seen?” He supplies, and you nod. “Well, baby, you’ve seen nothing yet.” He presses a button after starting the car, and a there’s a small _bing_ before a robotic voice plays from the speakers.

“Good evening, Peter. Where would you like to go?” It says cheerfully. He glances at you, and you quickly tell it your address. It starts up, and without Peter even touching the steering wheel, moves from the parking space and drives onto the street. You look up at Peter, a bright grin on his face, his eyes still on yours.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing!” You laugh, and he nods in agreement.

The rest of the car ride is in silence, but it takes only ten minutes to get to your apartment. In the last few minutes of the ride, Peter reaches his hand out and places it on your thigh, and the small heat in your gut turns into a flame. You look out the window at the passing streets, his hand slowly moving up your thigh, teasing you, until the car stops in front of your new yet still familiar apartment building. You practically jump out of the car, Peter following closely.

You fumble with your keys for a moment, trying to find the right one as he stands so close you can feel his body heat. There’s still a small part of you saying that this is wrong, this shouldn’t be happening, but the exhilaration of everything that’s happening (mixed with the alcohol) overrides it, and you know that you want this. There is nothing that you want more right now, than to sleep with this man whose last name you don’t even know.

You finally get the door unlocked and swing it open, stepping inside. There are still a few boxes stacked here and there that you have yet to unpack, and things strewn all around the place. You feel embarrassment creep up your neck at the mess, and quickly move to pick things up.

“Sorry about the mess, wasn’t really expecting anyone to come over.” You say quickly, picking up a book off the ground and moving to put it on the counter, when you feel a body press against yours. Two hands move down your arms slowly, making you shudder at their light touches, before gently taking the book and moving it out of your line of sight.

You feel his hot breath on your neck before he kisses it, his hands wrapping around your wrists. You make a noise that sounds like a squeak, muffled by your closed mouth, and you feel him smile as he nips roughly.

“Don’t worry about the mess,” He breathes, and your throat tightens. Every fiber of your being wants more, you want to touch him, you want to bite his shoulder and wrap your legs around his waist as he- “Worry about me.”

You can’t speak, so you just nod, and you feel his hands let go of your wrists and move back up your body. His fingertips press into your soft hips, before moving up to your waist, where he squeezes lightly. His teeth scrape against your neck in the best way and it makes you almost moan.

One hand moves up your shirt, and the other into your pants. You whimper softly as he holds a breast in one hand, swiping his thumb over your nipple, and you feel him press two fingers against your underwear, right where he knows your clit is. You buck your hips lightly, needing more, and he gets the hint and slides his hand into your underwear. You moan when he slides two fingers down your slick folds, pressing lightly against your entrance before moving back up.

“Please…” You breathe, and he pauses his movements.

“Bedroom?” He asks, his voice low and right in your ear, and after thinking for a second you nod. He backs up and you take a deep breath before walking towards your bedroom (thankful that you at least have new sheets and not your old hello kitty ones).

Once in the bedroom, you kick off your shoes, and Peter presses his lips against yours, roughly kissing you as you move to get his suit off. He shrugs his suit jack off and throws it onto your chair in the corner of the room. He helps you take off your shirt and he loosens his tie before pulling it over his head and letting it join his coat. You back up onto the bed, letting him cup your face and kiss you deeper as you fall backwards. His hands trail down your sides before reaching your pants, unbuttoning them before sliding them off. You fumble with his belt for a second before he pushes your hands away, undoing his belt and fly himself before letting them fall to the floor. You reach for him and he bends down again, sliding his tongue into your mouth as your fights for dominance, him overpowering you easily.

You both pull away, breathing heavily, but he wastes no time as he moves his mouth to your neck again, biting down. You let out a cry that bottoms out into a moan as he replaces his teeth with his tongue, and his hands rest on your breasts, teasing your nipples as you making small pants and whines that only drive him forward. He pushes your underwear down and pulls them off your legs, throwing them somewhere on the floor.

You moan when you feel a finger press against your wet entrance, slowly sliding in as a thumb presses down on your clit. You tangle one hand in Peter’s hair, the other grasping at the sheets as you cry out in pleasure. He moves his thumb in circles, pumping his finger in and out slowly, making you buck your hips and moan again.

“Good boy,” He murmurs, his voice low in a way that goes straight to your core. You respond with a whimper, trying to buck your hips for more friction.

“Please, more…” You say, your mind hazy with lust. He obliges, and slides in a second finger, his movements going faster as you let all kinds of lewd noises fall from your lips. The burning fire in your belly twists and coils up tighter, and you feel yourself just on the edge, until he curls his fingers in just the right way and presses harder on your clit. You give out a ragged moan, your back arching up from the mattress and your walls clenching around his fingers as he continues his movements, helping you ride it out.

When you finally relax against the sheets, sweat glistening on your skin in the moonlight shining from the window, he pulls away, bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them with a smirk. He quickly undoes the buttons on his shirt and pulls it off, throwing it to the chair with the rest of his clothes, and soon his underwear follows. You pant as he grabs hold of your ankles and moves your legs up, your knees almost touching your chest. The mattress groans under his weight as he kneels in front of you. Before he can even line himself up, you sit up.

“Condom?” You ask, and his eyes widen before he glances around. “Nightstand, bottom drawer.”

Peter slides the drawer open and grabs one of the loose condoms scattered on the bottom, ripping open the package and quickly rolling onto his member. He gets in position, his tip pressing right against your heat, before looking at your face. You nod, and he presses forward, filling you inch by inch. You bite your lip to try and hold in the noises, but when he bottoms out inside of you, you moan. He stays still for a second, letting you get adjusted, before he starts moving.

You whimper at the feeling of him rubbing against your already sensitive inner walls, each hard thrust has you seeing stars as you cling onto him. Unable to hold back your noises, you wrap your legs around him and dig your nails into his back, and he lets out his own moan as he starts going faster, his mouth right next to your ear. You can feel yourself getting close again, each thrust sending sparks into your gut, the coil tightening again.

“I-I’m gonna…!” You forget what you were going to say when he thrusts hard into you, making your nails scrape down his back. He knows, apparently, because he reaches down and starts to rub your clit again, making you cry louder. “F-fuck, Peter!”

He groans and thrusts in a couple times, before giving one last buck into you, burying himself deep inside you as he lets out a loud moan. His thumb doesn’t stop rubbing circles, and with a shuddering gasp, you come too. You both stay still, riding your own highs before you relax, your eyes fluttering close.

Peter pulls out of you and climbs off the bed, the lost weight on the bed making you open your eyes. He moves into the bathroom, turning on the light and closing the door. You can hear him shuffling around inside, and sit up in bed, listening to him for a few seconds. You’re suddenly aware of your nakedness and move to pull the sheet over yourself just as he walks out again. He flips of the light to your currently-bare bedroom, and gathers up his clothes. You watch him, perhaps staring for a little too long, because he looks behind his shoulder at you.

“What?” He asks, pulling on his (expensive-looking, like everything else he owns) boxers. “Why are you staring at me?”

You shrug. “Just curious.”

“…About what?”

“Where are you going?”

“Home?” He says, like it’s obvious.

“Oh.” You can’t help but feel a little hurt he won’t hang out for longer, it’s only been like, 10 minutes since you’ve had sex.

“Why? Did you think I was going to stay the night?” He raises an eyebrow, pushing his arm into his button-up again. “I’ve got work tomorrow, too, you know.”

“I guess you’re right.” You look down, fiddling with the hem of the blanket covering your nakedness. “I just thought you would stay for longer. We could, I dunno…”

He stares at you with a disgusted look. “If you say cuddle, I’m never talking to you again.”

You snort. “Nah, not really a cuddle-after-sex kind of dude.” He relaxes, and goes back to pulling on his pants. “We could talk about life, or something?”

He looks back to you with an incredulous look on his face. “Talk about life, or something.” He echoes, his voice bored and monotone.

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.” You mutter, looking away.

“Well, kitten, hate to burst your bubble, but it already sounded ridiculous.” Peter says as he buckles his belt. You chuckle, and you both fall into a comfortable silence. You watch him get dressed with extreme interest, and watch him move to leave the bedroom.

“Peter, wait!” He pauses, his hand on the doorknob, and looks back to you. You fidget, a blushing creeping onto your cheeks. “Am… Am I going to see you again?”

Peter stares at you for a moment, before looking away, his grip on the doorknob firm. It’s silent as he thinks of an answer, before he reaches into his suit, and pulls out a small card. He hands it to you, a smile on his face. “If you ever want to do this again, call me.” He winks at you, before opening the bedroom door again, and leaving you alone in your empty bedroom.

You wait until you hear the click of your front door shutting before you look down at the card. It’s facing down in your hands, and you flip it around. Your stomach suddenly drops, and your eyes widen as you read it.

**Peter Capra, CEO of _EbbCo._ (XXX-XXX-XXXX)**

You read it over several times, making sure it isn’t just a trick of this light. No, there’s no way. It couldn’t be…

You feel… well, you aren’t really sure how you feel. You do know one thing for sure.

You just fucked your boss.

**Author's Note:**

> IM SORRY FOR THIS FILTH DONT JUDGE ME
> 
> http://samiieus.tumblr.com/
> 
> im awful at writing anything but one night stands but. im also awful at writing them. idk. maybe i'll add more to this.


End file.
